A Gift for Desty
by Hogwarts Online II
Summary: Collab stories written for our awesome friend, Desty. We hope you like them, Dest!
1. Flickers by Azzie

**For Desty, with all my love.**

* * *

_**Mourn**_

"Harry."

She said his name in a whisper, faintly carried by the morning wind. He had heard her, she knew. His face slightly pivoted but he didn't fully turn to face her. Step after slow step, Ginny padded closer. Her heart was frantic against her ribs.

"Harry," she repeated.

He looked at her. Pale and drawn face, haunted eyes—they would mirror each other, she knew. Echoes of a similar pain, of shared fears rang hollow through their chests. The war. And the word "over" was but an illusion, she had discovered. It was too huge to be over. Loss lasted forever. Loss sat quietly in one's heart, never truly forgotten.

But to live, to live on, to honor the fallen and cherish those that were left for her to hold onto. She reached out and brushed a slim, freckled finger to the side of his face. He closed his eyes.

He had killed. She had fought. They'd survived.

(_Why—why us?_ she thought at night. _Why me and not Fred, not Colin?_)

"Hello," she breathed.

His cheek twitched. He stared at her.

His lips parted to speak, but she sealed them with a kiss, fierce and warm, desperate and determined.

(_Hold me. Hold onto me. Let me be your salvation_.)

His hands clung blindly to her shoulders.

* * *

_**Lie**_

"You are a know-it-all, stupidly stubborn, loud, and with no elegance whatsoever," he informed her. "Even if… we were of similar… ancestry, I would _never_ dream of getting in any way involved with _you_."

Hermione Granger raised a cold eyebrow at him. "That is fortunate," she replied in a clipped voice, "because if you hadn't so elegantly rushed to interrupt, I would have let you know that I wished we could settle on a date—for the next reunion between our departments."

He blinked. "Oh."

"Oh indeed. Well, your secretary will fix that for us, I wouldn't doubt. Smoothly and with proper feminine grace."

As she stalked out of his office, her messy hair bounced about on her shoulders, and even without heels, the crisp echo of her incensed stride resonated in the room, before the slamming of the door set a booming ending note to that ominous staccato. He cringed, hands tight around the edges of his desk.

Why had he reacted so fast, so stupidly, _why_?

Well, she had used the word "date". She was always in such a rush, never took the time to explain properly, always busy and frustrated and _naturally_ he had jumped to conclusions—the idea had appalled him so much, really, he couldn't _not_ react. Impossible. Surely that was understandable enough.

That mad, all-too-familiar idea. He shook his head.

Draco flipped open his files, thumbed through piece after piece of parchment, his eyes flashing over them, unseeing. He could still hear her voice actually—he winced at the memory—and the angry racket of her step. How improper. He could see her cheeks flushed in outrage, shining red like round apples—warm at the touch, surely… soft—

He stopped himself right there. Rash, infuriating Gryffindor know-it-all, enemy since they'd been eleven—and it didn't _matter_ that they could get along decently now, that their work ethics were certainly compatible if they diverged in other areas, that they platonically appreciated each other's quick brain, logic and… tricky nature.

A tricky Gryffindor. He hastened to wipe the smirk off of his face.

And it shouldn't matter either that he had _dated_ the likes of Pansy Parkinson before. He was no more unsubtle, hormonal teenager, willing to settle for anything so he might be adored. He was a grown adult now, intelligent, responsible, he could do much better…

And—but—Pansy had been pure.

His knuckles knocked against the hardwood of his desk in frustration. He bit his lip hard. Madness, stupidity, overwork, he decided. He wasn't thinking straight. Oh, that much was obvious.

With a flick of his wand, he summoned a memo for his secretary.

_Notify miss Granger of the time slots left available on my datebook, please._

His quill hung in the air. Sharp and to the point. Secretaries were ever so convenient.

The tip hovered, a flicker of ink splattered the sheet. He disguised the emblem of his hesitation with fast-scribbled words.

_Also kindly inform her that should it appear impossible to reach a suitable agreement for both of us, I am free in the evenings as well, to discuss our common interests over dinner._

Interests of the Ministry. Quite obviously.

Before his already-appalled eyes, the note flew away, tiny and light.

He kicked his desk.

* * *

_**Hope**_

"I don't care about that war," he told her. "I don't care about anything but you and me right now, really."

She shoved him a little. "Don't say that."

"I'll say it until you get the message. Of course I'm going to fight, and so are you. And yeah, we might die. All of us might. But I don't care. What I care about is what we'll do or have done, before dying."

He stared straight into her eyes. "And what I really want to do, Lily Evans, is be yours, and make you mine."

She found herself shaking with nervous laughter, tears in her eyes, dangerously close to the edge. "You never do stop harassing me, do you?"

"Are you joking?" he replied with mock outrage. "Took me years to make you see that we were meant to be. But now you aren't going anywhere, no_ way_."

She managed a smile, with shaky lips. "Except to the altar."

"That's the spirit." He cupped her face with warm palms, holding onto her like a treasure.

She swallowed. "Marlene…"

"Will always be there." His hands tightened around her cheeks. "Would want us to carry on. To live, and to love. And be stupid, in my case."

She laughed again, light-headed. "Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

A giggle of ecstasy escaped his lips, and he pressed them, trembling, to her forehead, breathing into the fiery strands. "We'll last forever, you and me," he murmured against her skin. "Just you see."

* * *

_**Believe**_

"You haven't said anything about the Nargles yet today." Lying on his bed, he stared up at her.

She leaned over him, long blond hair tickling his chest. "Did you really think I would?"

He hesitated, then tentatively reached out, and brushed her cheek. Her wide eyes gazed seriously back at him. She leaned into his touch.

"They all exist, you know."

He nodded, automatically, barely knowing to what. "Sure."

"The Nargles. The Crumple-Horned Snorkack. The Heliopaths. All of them. They live, and most people don't see them, but it doesn't matter. They are all parts of this wide, wide universe."

She stretched, and her eyes held all the starlight in the sky. "I'm going to travel the world, Ronald."

He swallowed. "Why are you calling me Ronald all of a sudden?"

"It's your name. I like it. But that doesn't matter."

"Will you come back?"

"Of course. My friends are here." She grinned suddenly and widely, savouring the word like a precious sweet, then leaned closer still. "You are here."

His answering smile was awkward. "I've never been much of a friend to you, have I?"

She shook her head. "Not always. I think not, but that doesn't matter either."

"What does matter, Luna?"

"This. Right now. Us."

She bent her head to kiss him, finally. She felt soft and warm, and tasted of infinity.


	2. Balance by Jessie

Balance:

"'Mione?" he called softly, not wanting to startle her. Considering her hasty departure from the others, he guessed she wouldn't be too receptive to company right now. "Just tell me you're okay." he pleaded. Then he considered for a moment before adding, "with proof."

A soft snort of amusement drew his attention, and he turned to spot his wife kneeling amidst her many memoirs. "'Mione, don't do this to yourself."

"I have to face it someday."

He knelt beside her. "Someday doesn't have to be today."

"I'm making it today."

"Give me five good reasons why."

"Why five?" she shot back.

"And they better be damn good ones."

"Draco...don't mess with me."

"Too late. I can't turn back now." He lightly rested his hands on her shoulders, massaging away the knots in her muscles. When she didn't protest, he moved down her back, stopping at her waist. He slipped his arms around her and held her close. "You did the best you guys could, 'Mione. You couldn't save everyone."

"So many people died..." she mumbled, shaking now.

"And so many lived." Draco reminded her. "Not only that, but so many were freed. Like us. 'Mione, you saved my family. Not just mine, either. You protected the future generations. Other families. Families that don't exist yet, even. Or didn't then. Like ours." He gently caressed the swell of her belly. Her hands tentatively followed his, holding them-herself, Draco, and their child-safely against the darkness of the war.

"It's over 'Mione. Let them rest. God knows they've earned it."

Hermione took a deep breath. Then she smiled. "You're right." Tears ran down her face, but she lifted her head and smiled for the first time in weeks.

"Life is all about exchange. Giving something up in order to gain something we want. They gave their lives for the families and friends. For the future. Respect that. And...without the war, we would never have truly found each other." he smiled, trying to bring her spirits up. "I mean it, 'Mione. I would give up all the power, everything I had before, for you all over again in a heartbeat."

"Life for life. Balance." Hermione whispered.

"We'll see them again. I just hope they don't hate me." Draco whispered. Hermione laughed. They stood, and she gasped in pain. "'Mione!"

"Get your mother. _Now._" Hermione hissed through clenched teeth. Draco just stood there, looking confused.

"The baby's coming!" Hermione yelled at him. He went deathly pale and fled.

Hours later, Hermione held her firstborn child and looked out at the sky. "And so the wheel turns."


	3. Time by Monse

_**For Desty! You're awesome and I hope you enjoy this. *Loves***_

_**Time**_

_**By: Slytherin Head (Monse)**_

Time, he knew, was mocking him.

There was no way that someone was not using some sort of Time-Turner to make time go slower. Or perhaps he was just very aware of his surrounding. He could feel the stares of everyone in the room. The happiness of his parents, the hatred from some of his former classmates, and the dislike of his fiance's best friends. The way some eyes shifted away when they were caught by his and the ones that seemed to challenge him into a staring contest, daring him to look away.

His palms were sweaty, and his legs felt like lead. It was now, on one of the biggest day of his life, that he was beginning to wonder if he had made the right decision. The whole world seemed to be judging him at the moment. His parents and Aunt seemed to be the only ones truly happy for him. To everyone else, this was just entertainment. To see if he was really going to go through with it all. Perhaps find out that he had cursed the bride to be into marrying him.

Their stares seemed to intensify and time seemed to suddenly stop.

And then- and then _she_ walked in.

As he watched her walk down the aisle with her parents, something just clicked in his mind. Everything made sense again and he knew exactly why he was standing there with Neville Longbottom as his best man. Love. Pure and simple. He had fallen in love and wanted nothing more than to continue to be in love for the rest of his life. He had asked and she had said say yes, followed by, "It's about damn time, you git!".

She was everything to him and he could only count it as a blessing that she was able to forgive him and show him so much kindness. He dared not imagine what his life would be like if he had never decided to ask her for forgiveness. Forgiveness for all the horrible comments and actions that he had performed against her and her friends. Forgiveness for not being able to save her from the clutches of evil. Forgiveness for not being brave and doing the right thing.

When she had given her forgiveness, she had also given him a second chance. A chance to redeem himself and let the world know that he was not evil. A chance to stand tall and not allow anyone to look down on him ever again.

Soon, she's the only he see's in the room. Her face framed beautifully by the soft brown curls that he had once sneered at. Brown eyes so intense that they seemed to pierce his soul. And a smile- a smile that only he can see. To everyone else she looks like any other bride, nervous and shy. He knows better though, he knows by the slight crinkle of her eyes and small smirk upon her lips that she's absolutely ecstatic.

As he takes her hand, he promises her parents that he will take good care of her. The smile and hug he receives from his soon to be mother-in-law says that she knows he will take care of their little girl. The firm handshake and steady stare from her father is a warning. This he knows, a warning that all fathers give to the man who is taking away their little girls.

_You hurt her and I'll break you._

Muggle or not, he knows better than to do as he's told.

The ceremony is just as they had wanted it; short and to the point. And as they vow to love each other and care for one another in sickness and in health he knows that he would travel even the deepest trenches of Hell for the love of his life.

"I know pronounce you, Husband and Wife. You may kiss the bride."

There's clapping and he could see his mother and aunt wiping away happy tears as he pulls his wife closer to him he can see the happiness in her eyes as she looks up to him with adoration.

"Hermione Jean Granger-Malfoy, thank you, for making me the happiest man on this planet."

Her smile grows wider as she pulls him into a deep kiss. Wolf whistles and cheers lost to the two of them. As oxygen is once again needed they pull apart; nose touching and smiles wide.

The world might not accept them, but as long as their family is behind them and their love for each other keeps strong, nothing can stand in the way of their happiness.

_Nox_


End file.
